


Lost in Translation

by SugarsweetRomantic



Series: Fridget Drabbles Galore! [2]
Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/F, Flash Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:40:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic
Summary: 52 Fridget-centred drabbles based on 52 words that are nearly impossible to translate into English.





	1. Forelsket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

“Gidget,” Franky begins one summer evening as they’re both sitting on the back porch of Bridget’s home, “do you remember when you told me about transference?” Bridget nods as she sips her sparkling water.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“When did you realise you’d fallen for me?” the younger woman asks her. Raising one eyebrow, the blonde counters: “Why do you want to know that?” Franky shrugs.

“Dunno. Just curious.”

 

“Well,” Bridget starts off, gently placing her glass in front of her, “the physical attraction was there from the start.”

“Ah, can’t blame ya there, Gidge. I’m a fucking catch!” Franky quips, gesturing at her own breasts and hips. Chuckling, Bridget replies: “Oh, you are. But the love…” She lets her voice trail off. “I realised I was hopelessly in love with you one night when I was sitting in the exact same spot I’m sitting right now. I was looking at the backyard, and realised that I was fantasising about having you here with me, permanently.” She looks down at her hands as a light blush colours her cheeks.

 

“Gidge?”

“Yeah?” Bright blue eyes look up into jade eyes, expectantly.

“That’s fuckin’ adorable.”

 

_Forelsket (Norwegian Bokmål): The euphoria one experiences when falling in love._


	2. Wabi-sabi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

Bridget sighed as she made her way into the bedroom. It had been one long day. She groaned softly as she stretched her back. She needed to set up an appointment with her chiropractor; it was long overdue. Franky was out with some colleagues, and she wasn’t expecting her home anytime soon. Slowly, she unbuttoned her blouse and let the silk drop to the floor. She’d pick it up later. She was just too tired. Feeling along the edge of her skirt, she let out a small breath of victory once she’d found the invisible zipper. Having freed herself of the restrictive garment, she sat down on the edge of the bed to remove her jewellery.

“Hey Gidge.”

 

Bridget jumped up from the bed and pulled the comforter around her nearly-naked form.

“Fucking hell, Franky, you scared the shit out of me!” she nearly yelled.

“Danielle’s babysitter cancelled on her, so we decided to go out another time,” Franky explained.

“Jesus Christ…” Bridget breathed as she sat back down, still holding the blanket up to her chest. Franky remained standing in the door opening of the bedroom, biting her bottom lip. After a few seconds, she mustered up the courage to ask something she’d been meaning to ask the blonde for a while now.

 

“Bridget?” The usage of her given name immediately caught the psychologist’s attention. “Why are you covering yourself?” Bridget shrugged, and mumbled: “You scared me. It’s a logical reaction.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” Franky entered the room and sat down on the bed next to the blonde. Gently placing her hands over Bridget’s, holding the comforter, she clarified: “You’ve been hiding from me lately. Changing in the bathroom. We never shower together anymore. What’s going on?”

 

“I…” Bridget began. She let out a frustrated huff, staring at their joined hands.

“What? What is it? Gidge, you can tell me anything.” Mumbling so softly it was nearly whispering, Bridget replied: “I worry you don’t find me attractive anymore. It’s stupid.”

“Gidget? Look at me, please?” Franky lifted one hand to gently caress Bridget’s bare shoulder. Hesitantly, the blonde looked her in the eyes. “Why wouldn’t I think you’re attractive?” the younger woman asked.

“With all the stress lately I’ve been putting on weight, and my body is getting older and things aren’t as tight as they once were, and…” Bridget sighed deeply. Franky felt a pain in her chest as her heart broke for her Gidget.

“Babe, I think you’re absolutely stunning, whether you weigh fifty kilos or ninety. Please, let me see you?” she pleaded. Bridget nodded slowly. She took a deep breath, and let the bunched up fabric drop.

 

“You’re perfect.”

 

_侘寂_ _(Japanese): The beauty of imperfection_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one turned out a bit longer than I had originally planned. Oh well!


	3. Trepverter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T

“Have we got everything?” Bridget asked as they neared the register. Franky hummed as she scanned their list.

“We’ve got the eggs, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ve got everything!” Franky beamed at her. She grabbed the blonde’s hand, and together they approached the cashier.

 

“Gay!” A roar of laughter erupted from a group of teenage boys nearby. Franky rolled her eyes.

“Just ignore them, baby,” Bridget murmured in her ear. Franky huffed and began furiously unloading the groceries onto the belt.

 

The two women paid for their items and loaded the bags into the boot of Bridget’s car.

“Here.” The blonde smiled as she handed the keys to Franky. “You drive. Get that frustration out of your system.” The younger woman grinned at her.

“You just think I’m hot when I take charge.”

“That too.”

 

As she pulled up to a red traffic light, Franky suddenly let her forehead drop onto the steering wheel, accompanied by a long, drawn-out: “Fuck!”

“What?” Bridget asked, worried. “Did we forget something?” Franky shook her head. Groaning, she replied: “I just thought of the best comeback to those kids. Why do I always think of the most genius things right after the opportunity to use them?” Bridget chuckled and laid a hand on Franky’s left knee.

“How about…you drive us home, and we focus less on comebacks, and more on coming, hmm?” Franky raised an eyebrow at her. Smirking, the blonde trailed her fingers up Franky’s thigh.

 

Two weeks later, Bridget found the infringement notice in her mailbox: twelve kilometres per hour over the limit. She went back inside and dropped it on top of Franky’s laptop.

“Totally worth it, Gidge, totally worth it!”

 

_Trepverter (Yiddish): A witty riposte or comeback you think of only when it is too late to use it._


	4. Culaccino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M

The house of Elizabeth and Jacob Westfall had been bustling with activity all day. The entire Westfall family had arrived, along with their partners and kids, to celebrate Easter together. Franky had felt slightly overwhelmed by the huge amount of people. Bridget had three younger brothers, all married, who together had eight children under the age of twelve. Now that the evening was settling in, she was finally starting to feel like herself again.

“Mum, Jen and I need to get going. It’s nearly bedtime for these little monsters!” Alex, Bridget’s middle brother, announced, gesturing at his three yawning kids.

“Alright, you should get going then. It was lovely having you,” Elizabeth replied. Elizabeth Westfall was a true family matriarch, adored by those around her. When everyone had said their goodbyes, only four people and a dog were left standing in the foyer of the large family home.

“Thanks so much for letting us stay the night, mum. You really didn’t have to.” Elizabeth waved her hands in the space between her and her daughter as she commented: “Nonsense, dear. You and Franky are always welcome here, you should know that.” To emphasise her point, she pulled both Franky and Bridget in for a hug.

 

The evening progressed rather calmly. When the clock struck midnight, Jacob announced: “It’s getting late. Elizabeth, shall we go to bed, darling?” Bridget glanced at Franky for confirmation before she spoke: “I think we’ll head to bed too. G’night mum, dad.” She kissed them both on the cheek and took Franky upstairs.

 

The two women quickly changed into their sleepwear. Franky threw on a T-shirt and pyjama bottoms, while Bridget pulled a knee length nightgown over her head.

“So, Gidge, this is your childhood bedroom, huh?” Franky asked, looking around the room.

“Mhmm,” Bridget hummed in agreement. “Mum converted it into a guestroom once I’d graduated from uni.”

“Ever had sex here?” The brunette grinned at her, tongue in cheek.

“Franky!”

“Well?” Bridget turned bright red, but answered: “No.” Franky sauntered towards the blonde, trailing the fingers of her right hand along Bridget’s exposed collarbones, ever so slightly skimming the top of her breasts. Leaning forward, she whispered: “Let’s change that then.” Gently, she pushed the straps of Bridget’s negligee down her shoulders, while she set the glass of water she was still holding down on the desk in the room.

“Franky, wait,” Bridget protested. “I need to go get a coaster. Mum will kill me if we leave a mark on the…” her voice trailed off as Franky slipped her hands under the hem of the soft garment.

“If we leave a mark on the what?” Franky asked, smirking.

“If we leave a mark on the…” The blonde gasped as she felt the younger woman’s fingers graze her folds. When she didn’t get an answer, Franky removed her hand from between Bridget’s legs. The psychologist immediately grabbed her wrist. Innocently, Franky asked: “What? I thought you wanted to go get a coaster?”

“Fuck that. Please, don’t stop.”

 

_Culaccino (Italian): The mark left on a surface by a wet glass._


	5. Ya'aburnee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

Franky watched as Bridget’s brow furrowed at whatever she was reading on the screen of her laptop. The blonde sighed softly, pushing her reading glasses up so she could rub her eyes.

“You okay, Gidge?” Bridget nodded absentmindedly. “What are you doing?” Groaning slightly, she replied: “I review my life insurance policy once a year. It’s time again.”

“Oh.” Franky thought about that statement as she distractedly stroked the shell of Fletch, the turtle Bridget had gotten her for Christmas. She didn’t stop until Bridget stepped into her field of view.

“Hey babe, what’s wrong? You look ten shades paler than five minutes ago!” Bridget commented. When Franky didn’t respond, she leant forward and pressed a soft kiss against Franky’s forehead.

“Hey,” she whispered, “talk to me, Franky.” The brunette blinked twice. Getting up from her spot on the couch, she put Fletch back in his tank. Standing in front of the glass with her back turned towards Bridget, she explained: “Thinking about you dying makes me really, really fucking sad, Gidge.”

“Oh baby…” Bridget carefully approached the younger woman as to not startle her, and wrapped her arms around her, pressing her front against Franky’s back. “I wasn’t planning on dying anytime soon.” Franky spun around in her arms to face her. Her bottom lip was quivering.

“I just can’t imagine my life without you anymore. I love you so much. Life without you would be more torturous than anything the Freak could possibly put me through,” she admitted, a silent tear running down her cheek.

“Hey, hey,” Bridget soothed, brushing her tears away with her thumbs, “I’m not dying, Franky! It’s just a formality for the bank because I got a mortgage when I bought this house, babe. I’m not leaving at all. You’re stuck with me, okay?”

 

Franky looked at her, her eyeliner running across her cheeks like war paint. Hesitantly, she asked: “Promise?”

“I promise.”

 

يقبرني _(Arabic): The hope that a person or loved one will outlive you as to spare yourself the pain of living life beyond that person._


	6. L'appel du vide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

"You, Franky Doyle, are a madwoman!" Bridget exclaimed as she followed Franky to the edge of the rock formation.

"It's just a jump, Gidge. Scared of a little dive, are ya?" the brunette joked. Bridget scoffed: "A little dive - no. A twenty-metre leap of faith towards our untimely deaths? Yes!"

"Come on, Gidget, you can't chicken out now. You promised!" Franky commented, turning around so she could face the blonde. "I mean, if you really don't want to, you don't have to, but... I've wanted to do this with you since I saw it on TV." Bridget let her words hang between them for a few seconds, until suddenly and without warning she pressed her lips against Franky's.

"Let's do it then." Surprised, Franky asked: "Are you sure?"

"No, but let's do it anyway."

 

Hand-in-hand, accompanied by a high-pitched shriek from Bridget, the two women jumped off of the cliff and into the water below.

 

_L'appel du vide (French): A desire to engage in self-destruction to have the feeling of existing, such as the instinctive urge to jump from high places._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to CatAstrof for the correct definition of l'appel du vide!


	7. Dapjeongneo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

“I’m a whale.”

Franky threw the statement into the room with a look of determination and finality on her face.

“A beached whale,” she added.

 

Bridget bit back a sigh. Twenty-eight weeks into her pregnancy, Franky was on strict bed rest, and the brunette was slowly but surely going insane.

“No, you’re not,” she called out from the kitchen.

“Am too.”

 

Exasperated, the psychologist entered the bedroom.

“You’re not a whale. You’re my beautiful wife who’s carrying our little miracles. So stop it.” She walked over to the bored brunette and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Now, can I get you anything? Tea?”

“Please?” Smiling, the blonde replied: “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

 

As she exited the room, she could have sworn she heard Franky mutter: “And yet, I’m still a whale.”

 

_답정너_ _(Korean): When somebody has already decided the answer they want to hear, and all is left for you to do is to utter that answer to them._


	8. Hanyauku

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

“Ah! Hot, hot, hot, hot!” Franky screeched as she stomped down the sand towards the cool waves. Bridget felt the vibrations of a low, amused chuckle travel through her thorax. Carrying both of their bags in her hands, she called out to Franky: “Hey baby?” The brunette spun around and continued hopping from one foot onto the other.

“Yeah, Gidge?”

“This is why I told you to put something on your feet!” Shooting the blonde a crooked grin, the younger woman responded: “Ah, but where’s the fun in that?” Shaking her head, Bridget dropped their things in an unoccupied spot on the shore. Franky had to be at least twenty-five metres away from her, but she could hear the enthusiastic high-pitched squeals Franky was exclaiming from where she was standing. She smiled to herself.

She was so in love with the energetic brunette, it was ridiculous.

 

‘But I wouldn’t want it any differently,’ she thought as she jogged towards the younger woman.

 

_Hanyauku (Rukwangali): The act of walking on tiptoes across warm sand._


	9. Iktsuarpok

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

Bridget smiled at the sight in front of her. Franky had been running to and from the front door for the past twenty minutes now. Chuckling softly, she commented: “Baby, you standing on the porch all the time isn’t going to make them arrive any faster, you know.”

“What if they can’t find it?” Franky asked, worriedly running a hand through her hair. Shaking her head, Bridget got up from her spot at the dining table and walked over to the anxious brunette, firmly grabbing her hands.

“Franky. They’ve been here dozens of times before. They could probably get here with their eyes closed if necessary.” Nodding, the younger woman let Bridget lead her to the couch. “Tea?” Franky nodded. Hopefully it would calm her nerves. Just as Bridget put the kettle on, they both heard a car pull up near the house. The brunette immediately jumped up from her seat again and hurried over to the entrance.

“It’s them!” Bridget walked over to her to join her on the porch, and watched as Alan and Tess Doyle came walking down the pathway. Alan got down onto his haunches and whispered into the little girl’s ear: “Do you remember what to say?” The smaller copy of Franky nodded, and announced: “Congratulations on gra-du-a-ting!”

Franky broke into a huge grin.

 

_Iktsuarpok (Inuit): The feeling of anticipation that leads you to keep looking outside to see if someone is coming._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being absent for a while! Ah, the chaotic joys of the holiday season... I hope you all have lovely holidays if you celebrate, and otherwise, I wish you a lovely final weeks of the year! Have fun, eat great food, and stay safe out there!


	10. Cafuné

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

Bridget let out a deep sigh as she dropped her purse in an armchair and kicked off her heels. Lately her days at Wentworth had begun to feel like they just never came to an end, and she was utterly exhausted. Staring out into the backyard, she started compiling a mental checklist of the things she had to do over the weekend: she had to write three reports, read those articles she’d bookmarked, buy a birthday present for her father, go to…

 

Het thought process was interrupted by the feeling of two arms sliding around her waist from behind, and a chin landing on her shoulder. Immediately she relaxed into the embrace, closing her eyes and lazily letting the familiar scent of Franky’s perfume surround her. Sighing softly, she greeted her: “Hey baby.”

“Hi Gidge.”  Franky’s silvery voice travelled through her chest, vibrating into Bridget’s tired muscles. “Long day?” Bridget murmured in agreement, leaning into the younger woman’s strong frame.

“Come on then, let me run you a bath babe.” Contemplating the proposition for a moment, the blonde shook her head and admitted: “I’ll fall asleep.”

“Wanna take a nap then?” Suddenly Bridget felt the fatigue in her limbs.

“I’d love to.” 

 

Just minutes later, they were settled in bed, Bridget’s tired body carefully draped over Franky’s long limbs. The brunette gently ran her fingers through the psychologist’s soft blonde locks, taking it out of the updo in the process. Bridget hummed softly at the feeling of Franky’s fingertips moving across her scalp.

“Close your eyes, babe. I’ll wake you in an hour or so. Just rest for now,” Franky encouraged her. Bridget nodded and lowered her lids, feeling the long day pressing down on her.

“Love you,” she mumbled.

“I love you too, Gidge.”

 

_ Cafuné (Brazilian Portuguese): Running your fingers through the hair of someone you love _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I apologise for my leave of absence! Real life has been pretty hectic, but I'm slowly getting back into the writing rhythm. Especially now that Celblok H has just seen the season 4 finale, and Wentworth is so close to the season 5 premiere, I'm really excited!


	11. Gezellig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T

Franky grinned to herself at the sounds coming from the living room as she stood in the kitchen to grab another bottle of wine. She heard Alex, Bridget’s brother, call out: “Yes!” In response to that the rest of the people present burst into laughter. She returned to the party to witness Alex and his wife Jen celebrating their winning of the most recent round of charades. Or, she thought to herself, maybe ‘drunk charades’ was a more fitting title, as Alex seemed to be beyond pissed – and he wasn’t the only one. Thank God everyone had the day off tomorrow, because she suspected multiple people would be hung-over.

“Ah, no way, rematch!” Fletch called out. “Vera didn’t guess anything I did right, so we need a rematch!” Vera scoffed at the comment: “It’s not my fault you’re rubbish at this!” She giggled at her own reply.

“Alright!” Bridget announced as she accepted the new bottle from Franky and uncorked it. “A rematch then. Do you want to shuffle the cards then, Matt?” Nodding, the tall man gathered the prompt cards that were strewn across the coffee table.

“I’m going to call the sitter to make sure the house hasn’t burnt down,” Jen stated, getting up. She and Franky seemed to be the only ones who weren’t drunk, Franky realised.

Chuckling, she plopped down onto the sofa next to Bridget and pressed a kiss onto the blonde’s cheek. Bridget raised one eyebrow at her.

“What was that for?” Franky shrugged.

“Just felt like kissing ya.”

 

_Gezellig (Dutch): Having company with a pleasant, friendly ambiance; (of an atmosphere) cozy; having an upbeat feeling about the surroundings._


	12. Gökotta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

Bridget groaned softly as she was roused by Fred, the now nearly ancient British Shorthair she had had since he was a kitten, who gently nudged her cheek with his head. She opened her eyes and smiled at the plump body sitting on Franky’s side of the bed.

“Good morning Fred,” she greeted the elegant cat. Satisfied that his personnel was now awake, the animal jumped off of the mattress and trotted away into the direction of his food. Suddenly Bridget realised that Franky was not anywhere to be seen. That happened often. The former inmate had not yet gotten used to her freedom, only three months since her release, and she got restless easily. She would go out for a run, or she would go swimming, and afterwards she would always come back. Bridget was not worried, nor was she upset. She just wanted the younger woman to feel happy.

To her pleasant surprise, when she had tugged a summer dress over her head and walked into the open-plan living area of her home, she spotted Franky’s wild bunch of uncombed manes through the window. The brunette was sitting under a tree in her backyard, her back turned towards the house. Bridget poured herself a coffee, grabbed an apple from the table, and carefully opened the sliding doors to the back patio, slipping outside on the tips of her toes. She padded barefooted across the grass over to the golden wattle under which Franky had sought her refuge this morning. Kneeling down to the ground, she carefully laid two fingers onto the brunette’s bare shoulder. Hopefully she would not startle her. 

Thankfully, Franky turned her head to face Bridget, a serene smile on her face. She moved her right hand from her hip to her collarbone, her fingers slightly bent and her thumb pointing upwards. The blonde recognised the sign; she had learnt that it was something Franky did when she did not want to ruin a moment by speaking. She copied the sign, mouthing the words: ‘Good morning’. Looking at Franky, she raised an eyebrow, and whispered: “Are you okay?” The brunette smiled and nodded, reaching out for Bridget and gently pulling her to sit down next to her. The blonde psychologist gladly complied, draping her still-waking body against Franky’s strong torso. 

“It’s beautiful out today,” she softly commented. Immediately she felt Franky’s fingertip against her lips.

“Shh. Just listen.”

 

_ Gökotta (Swedish): The act of waking up early in the morning with the purpose of going outside to hear the first birds sing. _


	13. Prozvonit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T

Franky grumbled as she shoved Bridget’s dinner into a Tupperware container. This was supposed to be their night. She lived at her bedsit during the week, but Saturday evenings she would go over to Bridget’s after getting back from Legal Relief and checking in with her parole officer. She would cook for the gorgeous blonde while Bridget unwound. They were supposed to have dinner together tonight, and then they would curl up on the couch together.

But no, just as they were going to sit down at the table, fucking Vera had called that they were having some sort of crisis at Wentworth and that Bridget needed to come over right away. Bridget had looked at Franky with those big blue apologetic eyes, and Franky had told her that it was okay. In reality though? Franky was furious. She left the food out on the counter to cool and walked over to Fletch in his tank.

“Hey mate,” she whispered, “at least you won’t get called away huh?” She dropped a strawberry in front of him and smiled as he devoured the accessory fruit.

The hours went by, and all she had gotten from Bridget were two texts. One told her that she had arrived safely, and the other read: ‘ _Fucking mess. Don’t wait up. Xx G._ ’ Looking at the clock, Franky realised it was now one in the morning. Fuck it, she would just go to sleep.

When she had crawled into bed, she grabbed her phone and sent Bridget a quick text, even though she knew that the psychologist would most likely be too busy to even look at her phone.

_ I’m off to bed. Stay safe, Gidge. _

Within a few minutes though, her phone rang for just a second before the caller hung up again. Before Franky could even grab it, her text notification chimed through the otherwise silent room. Bridget had called her, and sent her a red heart. Smiling broadly, Franky held the phone to her chest. She turned her head to look at Bridget’s unoccupied pillow, and whispered: “I love you too, Gidget.”

 

_ Prozvonit (Czech): To initiate a phone call and stop it before the call is picked, to inform the receiver of something without having to pay for the call. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I am aware that prozvonit does not necessarily mean letting the phone ring to let someone know you're thinking of them, and that it means that you don't want to pay for the call. But that isn't very romantic now, is it? ;) The custom I have just discussed is more of a thing in Mediterranean/South-European countries, as far as I know.


	14. Petrichor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mentions of slight astraphobia/phonophobia.

A loud rumble outside of Bridget’s home roared through the skies. Franky looked out of the large windows at the back of the house, admiring the view of the lightning bolts rushing through the heavens from her place behind the kitchen island. Fred was stretched out on the floor beside her. Every time the thunder hit, he would open his eyes in annoyance and immediately after he would fall asleep again. Franky turned her gaze to her right. Bridget was seated in a corner of the sofa, her knees pulled up to her chest and her body hidden under a soft cream-coloured fleece blanket. She had a death grip on the cup of tea in her hands.

“Gidge, are you okay?” Franky asked, getting up from the barstool to walk over to the blonde, concern spreading across her features.

“I…” Bridget began. A new clap of thunder hit and the psychologist winced visibly, pulling her legs even closer to her body and turning herself away from the windows. Now that Franky was taking the time to really observe her, she suddenly noticed how pale the older woman was. She sat down next to the skittish woman and laid her hands on her feet under the blanket.

“Are you scared of storms, Gidget?” She gently squeezed Bridget’s feet as the blonde sighed and set her cup on the side table beside her. 

“It’s stupid,” Bridget mumbled at a barely-audible volume. Franky shook her head and protested: “Nah, it’s not. What is it that scares you about it? That the lightning might hit the house?”

“It’s the unexpectedness of it all. The loud, unexpected noise,” Bridget confessed.

“Don’t you count the seconds then?” Franky asked. The psychologist looked at her in confusion. “Okay, wait,” she said as she pulled her phone out of her pocket and Googled the storm radar. Showing the screen to Bridget, she explained: “So the storm’s about 2 kilometres away from us right now, right?” The blonde nodded, scooting closer to Franky as another roar traveled through the skies. “Light travels faster than sound. That’s why you see the lightning before you hear the thunder,” Franky continued.

“I know basic physics, Franky,” Bridget commented.

“Ah, but do you know the speed of sound?” Franky asked. The older woman shook her head, and questioned: “Why does that matter?” The brunette smiled.

“Light travels so fast that its speed doesn’t make a difference, but sound travels at about 343 metres per second. Or, to make it easier, about one kilometre per three seconds. If the storm is 2 kilometres away, and we see the light basically immediately, that means the sound of the thunder hitting will arrive here six seconds after the lighting does. So, if you see the lightning and count to six, that’s basically when the thunder will sound.” She smiled at the jumpy blonde looking at her with large eyes. “No one ever told you that?” Bridget shook her head in amazement. Just then, the sky lit up with a large flash of lightning. Nearly whispering, Franky counted, tapping on Bridget’s feet while she did. “One, two, three, four, five, six.” As if on command, the thunder sounded immediately after she pronounced the final syllable. Bridget beamed at her.

“You’re a genius, Franky Doyle.” Chuckling, Franky jumped up from the couch and pulled the psychologist up with her.

“Come on, we’re going to take this fear of yours on head-first.” Before Bridget could protest, she had dragged the blonde outside, ending up standing on the back decking underneath the small verandah. 

“What the fuck are we doing?” Bridget nearly yelled at Franky. She wanted to get back inside, and fast, but the brunette was blocking her way back in. 

“Watch the lightning; smell the rain, Gidge, it’s beautiful!” Franky let go of her hand to walk out into the yard and spin around with her hands in the air.

“You’re a nutcase,” Bridget announced, turning around to retreat into the warmth of the living room. Just as her hand touched the sliding doors, two hands on her hips spun her around.

“But I’m  _ your _ nutcase,” Franky proudly proclaimed, pressing her lips against the blonde’s. 

A loud clap shook the Earth, but all Bridget could notice was the perfect woman in her arms.

 

_ Petrichor (Coined English, based on Greek πέτρα & ἰχώρ): The earthy scent of rain falling on dry soil. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to jenfurlee for the inspiration - this is the result of a conversation at 5 AM my timezone (CEST) when I can't sleep.  
> This really is becoming one of my most favourite series I've ever written.


End file.
